


there we may rehearse most obscenely

by violaceum_vitellina_viridis



Series: leshen!jaskier [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: (kind of), Alternate Universe, Anal Gaping, Anal Sex, Bestiality, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Come Inflation, Come as Lube, Creature Jaskier | Dandelion, Implied Somnophilia, Knotting, Leshen Jaskier | Dandelion, Leshens (The Witcher), M/M, Monster Jaskier | Dandelion, Monsterfucker Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Other, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Shameless Smut, Size Difference, Size Kink, Somnophilia, Spit As Lube, Top Jaskier | Dandelion, Wet & Messy, Wolves, belly bulge, no beta we die like stregobor fucking should have, see notes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:33:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26403520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violaceum_vitellina_viridis/pseuds/violaceum_vitellina_viridis
Summary: Geralt knows that Jaskier isn’t human.An encounter with some wolves in the woods turns into a very different event than Geralt expected.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: leshen!jaskier [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1943623
Comments: 92
Kudos: 917





	there we may rehearse most obscenely

**Author's Note:**

  * For [andrewminyards](https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrewminyards/gifts).



> y'all, for once, this _isn't_ kate's fault. it's steph's!!! bless her.
> 
> bestiality tag: geralt is fucked by several wolves, however the wolves are entirely controlled by jaskier and he experiences everything they are instead of them experiencing it. weird gray area idk.

Geralt knows that Jaskier isn’t human.

He’d be a damn poor Witcher if he didn’t, firstly, but also, Jaskier isn’t exactly subtle. Oh, of course, when there’s humans about he’s nothing more than the foppish, hapless bard – but when they’re alone?

Well, suffice it to say that Geralt is glad  _ he’s _ the Witcher Jaskier decided to travel with. His brothers call it a soft spot, and others call it a weakness, but he’s always felt a kinship with the non-human – elves, dryads, even the occasional werewolf or shapeshifter. He does his best to leave them be, if he can, to let them live.

It’s not exactly a common code among Witchers to let monsters live, no matter how civil the monster.

Not that he considers Jaskier a monster – far from it, actually, he’s never met any creature as genuinely benevolent as the bard. But he knows he’s not  _ human, _ and that’s the point.

* * *

His first guess was that Jaskier was some kind of dryad, or something related.

It made the most sense, for various reasons, even despite Jaskier being rather obviously  _ male. _ Geralt knew that dryads and their kin could change their forms, and he supposed if there was one who wanted to pretend as a human and be a bard, then a male form would be the most ideal.

And he was named after a flower, after all.

But after a more significant time travelling with him, Geralt had realized that Jaskier couldn’t be a dryad or any of their kin, because he had no  _ attachments. _ Not to a place, not to a specific tree or plant or body of water. Not even to a  _ type  _ of place. He could flourish anywhere, which was just too alien to be dryad or adjacent behavior.

His next guess had been fae. They were rare to the point of being considered extinct – in fact, no one had actually encountered any of the fae since the first conjunction, human tales notwithstanding – but Geralt supposed it was entirely possible that Jaskier was a hybrid.

Or maybe just bored. The fae had been known for being tricky and flighty, and both of those fit Jaskier to an almost worrying degree.

Also, it would explain the connection to nature, and the magic. It’s not strong enough to make Geralt’s medallion vibrate unless Jaskier is actively using it, but it’s rather strong when he  _ is _ using it. He can make things grow, and sort of temporarily reshape trees.

He mostly uses these skills to grow flowers and create benches to sit on. Geralt can’t really say he dislikes it, because he finds it almost embarrassingly endearing. If Jaskier ever notices that, though, he keeps it to himself.

Though there were a handful of other things Geralt had considered – shapeshifter, druid, perhaps just an untrained, hybrid mage – fae seemed to be the closest fit. But since it didn’t really  _ matter _ , as Jaskier wasn’t sensitive to silver and never hurt anyone that didn’t already hurt him (or otherwise deserve it), Geralt mostly put it out of his mind.

Until, of course, he was forced to confront it.

More specifically, he was forced to confront that he’d been very,  _ very  _ wrong.

* * *

He’d been fighting an archespore when it happened. The archespore itself was all but dead; he was just walking the perimeter of where it had climbed and hacking off the last of the limbs when he heard howling.

Wolves.

And a lot of them, judging by the noise.

“ _ Shit. _ ”

Jaskier was in a clearing somewhere south of here, tending Roach. The wolves sounded like they were somewhere between that clearing and Geralt, and he couldn’t tell what direction they were going, because of all the noise.

“Fuck,” Geralt muttered, and unsheathed his steel sword. “Fuck.”

Jaskier wouldn’t be able to defend himself against a pack of wolves, and Roach wouldn’t be able to outrun so many of them. But if he went toward the clearing, he’d run right into them, and it wasn’t likely he could fight off that many, not by himself after having to fight the damn archespore.

He had to make a decision, and quickly, or –

He didn’t get the chance.

The snarl was his only warning before there was a wolf slamming into his back, dropping him to the forest floor in a flurry of muddy fur and snapping teeth. Geralt rolled under the bulk of the thing, swinging, but couldn’t seem to move his arm right. His vision was obscured, and he could hear more of the beasts now, prowling around him.

He was going to die here.

He tried to fight harder, tried to get the wolf off of him, but it just snapped at him, fangs catching his armor and tearing it to shreds entirely too easily. These weren’t normal wolves, they  _ couldn’t  _ be normal wolves, but Geralt had no space or mind to figure out what was wrong with them. His sword got caught on something and yanked out of his hand.

“Fuck!”

The wolf on his chest snarled and growled and snapped again, barely missing Geralt’s face.

In the distance, there was a rumble, and then a voice, booming and yet a whisper all at once. “ _ Heel. _ ”

Geralt medallion vibrated so hard it jumped from his chest and knocked against the wolf’s teeth.

“ _ I said, heel. _ ”

All around him, there was a chorus of whimpers, and the wolf standing on Geralt’s chest cowered and left. He took a deep breath and turned his head to find his sword to the side, just barely out of arm’s reach. He scooted til he could grab it, then sat up.

The wolves were still circled around him, but all of them were whimpering now, tails between their legs and heads down. Geralt looked around at them all, perplexed, and the voice came again.

“ _ Geralt, _ ” it said, and Geralt felt his medallion jump again. He clambered to his feet.

“Who are you?” he asked the forest at large. “ _ What _ are you?”

A rustle in the distance, and then the creaking of branches, and from the trees emerged…Jaskier.

Except, he really wasn’t  _ Jaskier _ anymore. At least, not as Geralt knew him, not lithe and human.

The creature standing before him was at least three heads taller than Geralt, if not more. It had Jaskier’s face, round-cheeked and blue-eyed, and Jaskier’s basic build, just enlarged to match the height. There were antlers growing from its head, antlers draped with moss and flowers and other forest detritus. Its arms and legs faded from human skin into what almost looked like bark, but softer, and there were claws tipping its fingers, hooves instead of feet. It was human except where it wasn’t, and…entirely naked.

“What are you?” Geralt chokes, ignoring the heat flaring through his body at the sight of the creature’s cock, massive even soft and nestled amongst moss-green pubic hair.

“ _ Jaskier, _ ” it booms, “ _ I’m a leshen, Geralt. _ ”

“You’re – no.” Geralt blinks, arm going limp and dropping his sword to his side. “Leshen are – you look human.”

“ _ We can change our forms, _ ” the creature – the  _ leshen,  _ the leshen that is apparently  _ Jaskier,  _ his bard and barker, says. “ _ I didn’t want to frighten you. But the wolves – I can only control them like this. _ ”

“You can – control them,” Geralt repeats, dumbly. He knows that, knows that leshen can control wolves, but it’s all so  _ strange. _ “I thought – I thought you were fae.”

The way Jaskier laughs at that, his voice still that booming whisper, sends shivers up Geralt’s spine. Fumbling a little, he manages to sheathe his sword.

“ _ It was a good guess, _ ” Jaskier says. “ _ But if we’re talking about things we got wrong – I thought you didn’t fuck monsters, Geralt. _ ”

“I – what?” Geralt can feel his cheeks heating. “I don’t.”

“ _ The smell of arousal on you says differently, Witcher. _ ”

“What? You can’t – ”

“ _ I cannot. But they can. _ ” Jaskier gestures to the wolves, still circled around Geralt, most just sitting cautiously now instead of cowering. “ _ I can sense through them, when I control them like this. Hearing, smell, sight. Taste. Touch, even. _ ”

“I don’t fuck  _ monsters, _ ” Geralt huffs, looking away from Jaskier’s human-but-inhuman form. “It’s just…you.”

Jaskier laughs again. “ _ Are you certain, Geralt? I am a monster. _ ”

“Jaskier,” Geralt says, and he means it to be a reprimand, but instead it comes out weak and pleading.

“ _ You cannot take me, _ ” Jaskier says. “ _ Not without…ample preparation. _ ”

“Just – leave it,” Geralt snarls, but Jaskier chuckles again.

“ _ No _ .”

Jaskier steps closer, the wolves moving to let him, and Geralt swallows as he has to tip his head back, back,  _ back. _

When Jaskier is finally in front of him, Geralt realizes that he’s more than three heads taller. Including the height of the antlers, Jaskier is double his height in this form, never mind how much bigger he is  _ everywhere else. _ Geralt refuses to let himself look down, knowing that if he looks straight forward he’ll be face-to-face with Jaskier cock.

His own cock, a fucking traitor, twitches and starts to fill.

Jaskier smirks down at him.

“ _ Do you trust me, Geralt? _ ” he asks.

Geralt swallows again.

“Of course I do,” he answers, because it’s the truth.

“ _ Even like this? _ ” Jaskier reaches down – he has to bend just slightly to do it,  _ fuck _ – and trails one sharp claw over Geralt’s jaw.

“Yes,” Geralt grits out.

“ _Good._ _Take off that armor and your clothes, darling._ ”

Geralt shudders, but even though he wants to object – for any number of reasons, really – he does as he’s told, quickly stripping out of his torn armor and then shedding his shirt and breeches afterward. Everything ends up in a heap at Jaskier’s feet, and he bends to grab it all, placing it on top of a tree nearby. It would be a comical sight, if Geralt weren’t so distracted by how  _ good _ Jaskier looks right now.

Jaskier always looks good to Geralt. It’s a fact that Geralt has become accustomed to, by now; Jaskier will always make him drool a little, whether he’s all dressed in his finery or down to his smalls and covered in mud. But now? Well.

The sun set a while ago, leaving a burning orange halo on the horizon that battles with the nearly-full moon for light. Jaskier seems lit by both, skin pale in the moonlight but still warm-looking. The tone of it is a little different now, more of a green than a pink, and now that they’re closer Geralt can see that what looks like bark on his arms and legs is actually coarse hair over tougher skin. His claws and hooves are lighter in color than the skin and hair that leads to them, almost a sort of golden-brown. His antlers match them, though it’s hard to see from this distance and with all the moss and vines covering them, acting almost like a crown around Jaskier’s head. His eyes are still blue, but nearly luminous, clearly inhuman now, and Geralt catches a brief glimpse of fangs hidden behind his lips. His body hair is still dark brown, but it fades into that moss green as it goes down his belly to his cock, and the same goes for his arms and legs.

His  _ cock, _ well. Geralt swallows back a wanton groan and tries not to focus on it.  _ Ample preparation,  _ indeed.

“ _ On your hands and knees, love, _ ” Jaskier orders. “ _ Close your eyes. _ ”

Once more, Geralt feels as if he should object, or stop somehow, but he doesn’t. He just drops to his knees and elbows in the soft undergrowth and squeezes his eyes shut. Vision taken away, his other senses seem to sharpen. He can hear rustling and heavy panting from the wolves, from Jaskier as he moves about. Branches creaking with the wind or touch, he’s not sure. The forest smells of damp and mold and growth, a pleasant smell except that it overpowers everything else right now, and he wishes he could smell  _ something _ of Jaskier, just to give him a clue as to what’s going to happen.

He hears a wolf move, paws rather quiet as it pads over to him, and he tenses.

“ _ Relax, love, _ ” Jaskier says. “ _ It’s basically just me. _ ”

“Basically?” Geralt breathes out, voice cracking.

“ _ I can hear, see, taste, and feel through it, and it’s under my total control, _ ” Jaskier says. “ _ It’s me. Relax. _ ”

Geralt forces himself to untense, taking a deep breath. He feels the wolf’s fur brush up against his side, and then again against his ass. Without even thinking about it, he settles with his knees further apart, exactly like he would if Jaskier were behind him.

He supposes Jaskier  _ is _ behind him.

He doesn’t really know what to expect, so the first touch of a long, wet tongue to his ass startles him. Jaskier laughs, but the tongue doesn’t relent, the wolf licking over Geralt’s hole until he’s soaking wet with saliva. Geralt tries to keep it together, to stay quiet and still, but he  _ can’t. _

The wolf’s tongue is hot and slick and  _ long,  _ sending sparks up his spine whenever it catches over his hole, and his cock jerks with the tickle of saliva trailing down his balls. He’s gasping and whimpering into the leaves and dirt between his arms, head spinning with the intense sensation.

And then the wolf growls and that tongue presses  _ inside _ him, and he’s lost.

“Fuck, fuck,  _ Jaskier, _ ” he cries out, hips working feverishly along with the sloppy rhythm of the wolf’s tongue. “Jaskier,  _ please. _ ”

“ _ Patience, Witcher, _ ” Jaskier coos. “ _ They’ll get you ready for me. _ ”

“They?” Geralt pants. “More – more than one?”

“ _ More than this, _ ” Jaskier confirms. There’s movement, footsteps and rustling, and then a presence in front of Geralt. “ _ Look at me, love. _ ”

Geralt forces his eyes open and tips his head up to find Jaskier standing in front of him, hand around his hard cock. He’s even bigger erect, and Geralt can’t help the weak, desperate little whimper that spills from his throat at the sight. His cock throbs, and the wolf’s tongue shoving deeper inside of him,  _ impossibly  _ deep, long and slick and  _ wriggling, _ just makes it worse.

“Fuck,  _ fuck, _ ” Geralt groans, dropping his head back down so he can roll his whole body toward the wolf at his back.

“ _ Look at you, _ ” Jaskier says reverently. “ _ So needy for it. Will you be that needy with my cock in your stomach, love? _ ”

“ _ Jaskier, _ ” Geralt keens. The answer is yes, he knows, an absolute, emphatic  _ yes, _ because he wants it so badly he could cry. The wolf’s tongue keeps wriggling around inside of him, making him feel sloppy wet and open, and he can’t help but sob into his arm at the feeling. “ _ Jaskier! _ ”

“ _ Want more, darling? _ ”

“ _ Please, _ ” Geralt gasps. “Please, more,  _ Jaskier, _ need more.”

“ _ Of course. _ ”

The wolf’s tongue disappears, but Geralt doesn’t have any time to miss it before the beast is rearing up, paws and sharp nails on Geralt’s back, and rutting its cock against his slick crack. It’s  _ hot, _ the temperature of it searing against his cooling skin.

“Fuck!”

“ _ Tilt your hips back, darling. Yes, just like that. _ ”

Geralt whimpers as he does as he’s told, the wolf’s claws digging into his skin. The wolf snarls and ruts for a moment more before the head of its cock snags on his hole and pushes  _ in. _

Geralt  _ screams. _

It doesn’t hurt, not really, but he’s so full so  _ suddenly, _ and the wolf doesn’t wait.  _ Jaskier  _ doesn’t wait. Instead, it just moves, short, sharp thrusts that send Geralt tumbling forward face-first into the forest floor. He can barely breathe past the pressure, the  _ pleasure, _ as the wolf growls and snaps above him and fucks, in and out, in and out. The heat of it paired with the brutal, deep thrusts, have Geralt teetering on the edge near immediately.

“Jaskier,  _ Jaskier, _ ” he gasps against the ground, voice shattered. “ _ Please. _ ”

“ _ Come for me, darling, _ ” Jaskier rumbles. “ _ Just like this. _ ”

Geralt feels himself tensing, hears the way the wolf snarls, and his world goes blinding white. He’s barely aware of the sound of his voice, the way he’s shouting Jaskier’s name; the feeling of the wolf still fucking him, knot flared and catching at his rim with each sharp jerk. The pleasure is all-encompassing, drowning all of it out in favor of white-hot heat and dizziness.

When he finally comes down, he’s panting and tied to the wolf while it snuffles at his neck.

“Jaskier,” he croaks, the wolf’s jerking movement sending a weak aftershock through his system.

“ _ Look at you, _ ” Jaskier says, reverent and wanton. “ _ All fucked out, caught on a knot. This is just the first one, too. Imagine how you’ll feel when they’re all done with you, when I get to fuck you. _ ”

Geralt shudders and his cock jerks. He’s not even soft; he won’t be for a while, and he wonders how many times he’ll come while Jaskier has the wolves open him up on their cocks. Just the thought of how fucked out and overstimulated he’ll be has him shuddering and whimpering for it, clenching down around the knot caught in his ass. The wolf against his back whines and snarls.

“ _ You’re a marvel, _ ” Jaskier says. Geralt just whimpers into the dirt.

Eventually, the wolf’s knot goes down and it leaves, but Geralt can hear a second one padding toward him. He shivers, groaning when he feels the first wolf’s cum start to leak out of him. The second wolf doesn’t bother with its tongue – no need, not when he’s all open from the first cock and wet with cum – and just mounts him immediately. He cries out at the weight of it, the sting of its claws, but doesn’t fight, doesn’t tell Jaskier to stop.

This one takes another few moments of rutting, but catches faster. It’s also  _ bigger, _ and Geralt can’t help the way he whines for it, body shuddering as the wolf moves, fast and sharp and  _ deep. _ Each thrust glances violently over his prostate and he feels tears come to his eyes, the pleasure so sharp it’s basically pain as it floods through his body. He tries to remember how many wolves there were, how many were male, but he can’t, not past the fuzz of pleasure in his head.

“ _ Please, _ please,  _ Jaskier, _ ” he sobs, and Jaskier laughs again.

“ _ What are you begging for, darling? _ ” he asks. “ _ You’re allowed to come. You just have to take it, take this, so that when the wolves are done I can have my turn. Don’t you want that, love? _ ”

“Yes, I do, I  _ do, _ ” Geralt babbles, vision going spotty as he gasps for breath. Each of the wolf’s thrusts send him skidding forward, and he has no strength in his arms to stop it. His cock is drooling and bouncing between his spread thighs, balls throbbing with each press against his prostate. “Want you, Jaskier,  _ please. _ ”

“ _ Patience, Geralt, _ ” Jaskier soothes. Geralt keens but nods against the ground, whimpering when he feels the wolf’s knot start to push at his rim.

Its knot is bigger too, to match its cock, and Geralt feels a fresh wave of tears flood his eyes and leak down his already-muddy face as it gets shoved into him. Thrust by thrust it presses against his rim until it finally pops in with a wet sucking sound, and Geralt screams at the pressure, orgasm taking him under as the wolf howls above him.

This time, he doesn’t come back around until there’s a third – or maybe fourth? – knot in him. He’s dizzy and his cock is still throbbing hard despite the puddle of his own cum he’s kneeling in. He’s trembling all over, barely even holding himself up on his knees, and his voice is hoarse when he goes to speak.

“Jaskier, please,” he cries, and Jaskier makes a soft, rumbling noise, soothing and thunderous all at once.

“ _ One more, darling, one more, _ ” he says. “ _ And then it’s my turn. _ ”

Geralt shudders, knees slipping, but he’s so caught on the latest knot that he can’t even squirm or fall, and his stomach swoops. He feels so full, between the cock buried inside him and the copious amount of cum, and he just wants  _ more, _ wants to feel Jaskier wrecking him, too.

One more. One more wolf, one more knot, and then he can have what he really wants.

He whines when the knot deflates and the wolf leaves him cold, whines some more when he feels cum just pouring out of him, but the next wolf is there quickly. The  _ last  _ wolf. Geralt tilts his hips back, enough to make his spine ache, and tries to brace against the muddy ground. This is the biggest wolf so far, big enough that it doesn’t even touch him as it mounts, just hunches over his body and covers him entirely.

Its cock reflects that as well, and Geralt moans as he feels the hot, thick brand of it against his ass.

When the head of it catches on his rim it almost hurts, stretching him somehow further open, and Geralt whines through his teeth. He tries to relax, bearing down on the pressure, until the wolf’s cock finally pushes inside, straight to the base in one vicious thrust.

“ _ Jaskier, _ ” Geralt sobs. The wolf starts to move.

He’s too sensitive, too fucked-out, but he just wants more, more, _ more. _ His hips shove back to meet the wolf’s thrusts, making the beast growl above him. His cock is still hard, throbbing and soaked, and he has no idea if he can come again but he doesn’t even care.

“Please, please,” he begs. “Want it, want you to knot me, fuck me full,  _ please. _ ” He’s half-delirious, vision fading in and out as the wolf ravages him, cock making filthy wet noises as it sinks into his used body. “ _ Please. _ ”

“ _ So desperate for it, _ ” Jaskier says, and he’s nearly panting. Geralt jerks and whines. “ _ Look at you, begging a common dog to fuck you. You want my cock so badly you’ll do anything for it, won’t you? _ ”

“Anything,  _ anything, _ ” Geralt repeats, a confirmation. He chokes on his next breath when the wolf starts to move faster, thrusts changing from sharp and fast to short and deep. Geralt can feel the head of the wolf’s cock in his belly, bruising his insides, and he sobs for it, beginning wordlessly for the knot he can feel forming against him. It takes a small eternity for the wolf to push it into him, the stretch so wide Geralt is sure he’ll split in half, but then he’s clamping down around it, so full he can feel it in his  _ throat. _

“Jaskier,  _ Jaskier, _ ” he screams, cock pulsing weakly between his thighs as the wolf roars. “Jaskier,  _ please. _ ”

“ _ So close, darling, almost there, _ ” Jaskier says. “ _ Once that wolf is done with you, I’m going to pick you up and use you like a cocksleeve, love. Just move you like I want to, until I can fill you up one last time. Does that sound good, Geralt? Being used for my pleasure? _ ”

“Yes,  _ yes, _ please, Jaskier,” Geralt whimpers, rocking against the wolf tied to him. The wolf snarls and Geralt feels the throb of its cock as it continues to pump cum into him. “Want you to use me, please,  _ please. _ ”

“ _ I will, darling, I promise. Can you feel how fucked open you are? All full of cum and gaping from five wolves, just so I cam impale you on my cock. _ ”

“Jaskier,” Geralt pants. He can feel the knot inside him start to soften, and he whines, stomach tensing in anticipation. “Jaskier,  _ yes, _ please.”

The wolf finally pulls back, and Geralt whimpers at the feeling of cum gushing down his thighs, but he doesn’t have time to focus on it. Jaskier’s hands wrap around his waist, claws prickling his skin, and lift him up as if he’s nothing more than a  _ doll. _

He feels like a doll, all limp and pleasure-soaked, ass gaping and leaking. Jaskier makes a low, rumbling sound, like a purr but more, and Geralt shudders in his hold. “Please, please,  _ fuck me, _ Jaskier, want it,” Geralt begs, and Jaskier makes that sound again.

“ _ Mine, _ ” Jaskier growls. “ _ All fucked open and sloppy just for me, just so I can ruin you even more. Are you going to come on my cock, Geralt? I think it’ll be dry, if you do. Look at how filthy you are. _ ”

“Jaskier,  _ please, _ ” Geralt gasps, and then he’s being moved. The world spins and he can’t pin down what’s going on, where he’s facing or being put, until he feels something slick and hard and  _ hot, _ searing hot, press at his ruined hole. “Oh,  _ fuck. _ ”

“ _ Take a deep breath, darling, relax for me, _ ” Jaskier coos, and Geralt tries, he really does, but even with all of the wolves and all of his effort, Jaskier’s cock still feels like it might rip him apart.

“Jaskier,  _ Jaskier, _ ” he whines, writhing in Jaskier’s hold. He can’t go anywhere, not that he wants to. The head of Jaskier’s cock finally pops into him with a wet sound and he wails, entire body going suddenly lax with the rush of pain and pleasure that sears up his spine. Jaskier holds him steady, chuckling, and keeps moving.

“ _ There you go, just like that, _ ” he murmurs, encouraging. “ _ Look at you, Geralt, so beautiful like this. All desperate and fucked out, all for me. _ ”

“Just you,” Geralt mumbles, head spinning. “Fuck,  _ Jaskier. _ ”

He’s never been this full in his life, and he’s sure it should hurt, that he shouldn’t want it, but it doesn’t and he  _ does. _ He wants it so much, wants as much of Jaskier’s cock as he can take. “ _ Please. _ ”

“ _ Open your eyes, love, _ ” Jaskier orders. “ _ Look down at yourself. _ ”

Geralt groans and fights his heavy lids, head feeling even heavier. Eventually, he manages to get them half-open, and to lift his head enough to look down. He’s filthy, covered in leaves and mud and cum, sticky and smeared all over his body, but more than that, he’s….

He can see Jaskier’s cock in his belly, nearly all the way up to his ribs. He whimpers and clenches down, sucks in a breath that makes the outline clearer. “ _ Jaskier, _ fuck.”

“ _ I know, love, I know. Fuck, not going to last, not with you like this. _ ”

“Want you to,” Geralt mumbles, finally dropping his head back. “Fill me up, Jaskier, please.”

“ _ Fuck. _ ” The word rumbles so loudly it shakes the ground, and Geralt’s medallion jerks up and spins, but he pays it no mind.

Jaskier starts to move, slowly at first and then faster when he hears the way Geralt is moaning for it. He’s not moving his hips, just Geralt; using his grip on Geralt’s waist to lift and drop him, like he’s a  _ toy. _

Geralt’s cock has softened, but all the same it throbs heavily, and he keens. “ _ Jaskier. _ ”

“ _ Just like this, _ ” Jaskier snarls. “ _ Going to use you like this until I come, Geralt, and then make you keep my cock warm until I’m done. All stretched out and filled to the brim with me. _ ”

The sound Geralt makes isn’t even human, something like a banshee scream but even higher-pitched, as an orgasm that shouldn’t even be possible roars through him. His heart ratchets up to a nearly human pace, and he pants wildly, squirming where Jaskier is still moving him, using his body like a toy.

“Jaskier, Jaskier, Jaskier,” he chants, vision completely whited out. “Jaskier,  _ please. _ ”

“ _ Won’t stop even if you pass out, _ ” Jaskier growls. “ _ You’re mine, Geralt, such a good little toy. _ ”

“ _ Jaskier, _ ” Geralt screams, and the world spins into fireworks of blinding color before he finally,  _ finally  _ sees blackness, and he’s gone.

* * *

There are flashes of color, of sound and sensation, but none of it really sticks, and nothing is linear.

“ _ Just like that, Geralt, yes, such a good little cocksleeve. _ ” Jaskier’s voice, booming and whispering and too much and too little at once.

Green and brown and green again, golden-brown, pale greenish skin. Colors, colors, colors, none of them make sense, but all of them seem so comforting.

“ _ Fuck, Geralt, you’re so fucking perfect, such a fucking mess, look at you. _ ”

The feeling of being so full he’s choking on it and searing, wet heat in his belly.

More green, and then grey and brown and black.

“ _ Perfect, Geralt, perfect darling, yes, rest…. _ ”

* * *

He wakes to the sound of a river rushing nearby, Roach snuffling in the grass, and Jaskier singing.

He feels very much like he’s been tied to a watermill and left to spin and drown.

At the sound of his groan, Jaskier’s singing comes to a halt and he rushes over.

“Geralt,” he says, and he sounds mildly concerned, but other than that his voice is warm and all Geralt can smell is the usual scent of him, the river and Roach and Geralt all mixed together.

“Was that a dream?”

“Was what a dream, love?”

“…everything,” Geralt frowns. “The…you’re….”

“If you’re asking about me being a leshen and fucking you absolutely stupid, then no, that wasn’t a dream at all.”

“How long have I been asleep?”

“About twelve hours is all.”

“Hm.” Geralt fumbles himself into a sitting position, back twinging, and levels a bleary look at Jaskier. He’s back to his normal self, now, all pink and human. But Geralt can’t seem to shake the image of him in his other form, the antlers and vines and moss and absolutely  _ massive  _ cock. He coughs.

Jaskier grins, wide and wicked, like he knows what Geralt is thinking.

“Want to do it again?” he asks.

Geralt flushes beet red.

He doesn’t say no.

**Author's Note:**

> i just. i keep trying to one-up great vices, so filth keeps pouring out of me at alarming rates, and y'all get the benefits of it lmao.
> 
> encourage me to write more filth by leaving comments :D


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